Post-Birthday Melancholy

In my vulnerability, I am light, and in my lightness, I am free.

Melancholy is a state of being that strikes me often, hard, and unexpectedly. When I get melancholic, I feel like I'm floating in limbo, at peace with myself and everyone, and yet-- and yet there's something amiss. There's something lacking about something that which I truly do not understand. I cannot pinpoint the exact reason for this melancholy. It just is.

I am melancholic right now. By definition, I do not know why. It does not distract me from work, thankfully. It's one of the better things that this state of being sends my way. I become productive in this state: I study better, I work faster, I think in clearer terms. It feels as if all my defenses-- heavy, clunky, and definitely not worth the weight-- have been put down. In my vulnerability, I am light, and in my lightness, I am free.

I am free. And yet I am not free.

Everything about this is a paradox. I am free because I feel light. But if I were truly free, then melancholy wouldn't make me feel as though I'm missing something. This nagging yet mercifully distant voice weighs me down. And if something is pulling me down, then I cannot soar, and therefore I am not free. And yet I am.

If anyone can make any sense of what I just wrote, tell me. I've been searching for answers since time immemorial, and have found none as yet. Consider this your share in promoting world peace.